


Kairos

by Breeze_from_Scotland



Category: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 07:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breeze_from_Scotland/pseuds/Breeze_from_Scotland
Summary: Before the events of the Bridgeton books, there was a romance that left an unending impact upon London society. This is the story of Lord and Lady Bridgerton's love affair.
Relationships: Edmund Bridgerton/Violet Bridgerton
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter One

Kairos

  
Chapter One

The perfect portrayal of beauty had never been something that the honourable Miss Violet Clympton had quite understood. As she stood before her dressing mirror that evening, she pondered her face, comparing it to that of Miss Corelia Wethering, her cousin and that season’s “diamond” (according to the tattling gossips of the Ton). She had, she supposed, pleasingly symmetrical features, though her mouth would be considered too wide for perfect beauty. She knew that her rich chestnut hair was too dark for fashion, when compared to the pale golden locks of her cousin, and her hazel eyes would no doubt be thought common place. But her figure was neat, her skin clear and her cheek with a tendency to dimple (which her mother always commented upon).

  
After allowing herself a slight eye roll, she shared a smirk with her maid Sarah and instructed her to fasten the emeralds about her neck. She had also taken the time to find a spray of silk flowers that matched the gold and white embroidery on her green gown to perfection, which were now liberally studded through her hair. She was just tucking away a stray curl when her Mother entered the room.

  
Lady Clympton surveyed her only daughter with a warm smile, “Beautiful, my darling,” she commented, walking forward to peck her daughter’s cheek. “Green really is your colour, do you not agree, Sarah?”

  
The maid nodded, “Very much so, my lady. Cooler colours have always suited Miss Violet.”

  
“Maybe we could try a teal at the modiste next week?” Lady Clympton pondered, “I seem to remember Miss Chandry wearing a similar shade last year and it became her darker colouring beautifully.”

  
Violet readily agreed and was quick to usher her mother out before she and Sarah began another discussion of gowns.

“I’m sure Aunt Henrietta and Cordelia don’t want to be kept waiting,” she stated, “Thank you, Sarah.”

They soon joined her aunt and cousin in their carriage. Cordelia, as always, looked stunning in a gown of ivory organza.

“So, who’s flavour of the week?” Violet teased, “Who’s stolen your heart? Is Lord Paisley still a favourite?”

Her cousin laughed, “He’s certainly very charming. The Duke of Andover has also been very attentive.”

“My dear, the Duke of Andover is a decided rake, your father already told you this,” Mrs Wethering corrected her daughter.

Cordelia nodded, “I know Mama, but he is very amusing.”

A discussion of the duke then followed which amused Violet greatly. Her cousin took secret delight in worrying her mother by gushing over her latest “favourite” (who was always a completely inappropriate suitor), when the truth was that she actually had a very good head on her shoulders and far more common sense than anyone gave her credit for.

They were still deep in their discussion when the carriage drew up alongside Lord and Lady Danbury’s beautiful home on Park Lane.

As always, the renowned her ladyship had not let down her guests. Huge displays of vibrantly coloured tulips decorated the walls of the entrance hall and ball room. It created such a stunning visual display that Violet was struck for many minutes as she took it all in, missing her cousin’s departure on the arm of Lord Paisley and her own attention being drawn by a stout young man with an easy smile.

“I say, Miss Clympton?” he tried again.

Violet started. “Mr Briggs, I beg your pardon, were you trying to speak to me?”

Mr Thomas Briggs laughed heartily at Violet’s distraction, “I was requesting your hand for the first dance, Miss Clympton,” he replied with his usual sparkle.

She smiled, “I’m sorry for my abstraction, the tulips overpowered me.”

Her partner nodded, “They certainly create a spectacle. May I have your hand?”

Violet happily accepted it and they began a comfortable country dance together. It always amused them both when others asked about when they were going to become engaged. She and Mr Briggs had met the previous season and got along excellently as friends, so it had become their habit to dance a couple of what they called “safety dances” together, meaning that they would not be scolded by their respective Mamas for not having enough partners throughout the evening.

“So, have you stolen any hearts yet this season, Mr Briggs?” she asked during a calmer part of the dance.

Mr Briggs flashed her his smile, “Only a couple. Though I am still, shall we say, relaxed when it comes to the marriage market, Miss Clympton.”

Violet smiled. Mr Briggs had the enviable position of being an eldest son with no pressure upon him to marry, so he took great delight in taking his time.

“What of you? This is the third week of your second season, surely you have caught a handsome young man’s eye?”

She laughed and shook her head, “That would be my cousin, Mr Briggs, and she has caught many a young gentleman’s eye.”

“I have heard as much; I hope her Father’s parlour does not become overwhelmed by the fragrance of so many bouquets.”

“She had received many, but I believe my Aunt Henrietta is enjoying the attention.”

Mr Briggs smiled and bowed as the dance ended. “May I claim another after tea? I believe at least two will help to assuage my Mother’s concerns.” He pencilled his name into a space on her dance card and bowed deeply before leading her back to her mother.

Lady Clympton gave her daughter a knowing look, “Thomas Briggs, again darling?”

Violet sighed, “I’ve told you a thousand times Mama, he’s my friend. It is possible for the two genders to be friends without romantic feelings being involved.”

Her mother nodded, “I know Violet, so you’ve told me.”

Violet walked away in search of some lemonade, wearied of her mother’s knowing looks. Upon reaching the bowl she discovered her friend Katherine Andrews, and they shared a knowing smile.

“Is your mother dissatisfied at your partner choice?” Katherine asked.

Violet sighed, “As always, she cannot comprehend that Mr Briggs and I are friends.”

“Just like my brother cannot believe that I am not an old maid, despite this being my (prepare for horror) fifth season without being married.”

Violet regarded her friend sympathetically. Katherine was the eldest daughter of a very respectable family but had dared to reach the age of twenty-three without having accepted an offer of marriage. Such a thing was horrifying to many a young woman in her first season, but Violet could understand only too well and admired her friend’s nonchalance in the face of many barbed and pointed remarks from the gossips.

“We are what my Aunt Henrietta has started to refer to as the “Wallflower Misses of the Ton”,” Violet observed, “Because we prefer to remain on the side-lines and do not want to thrust ourselves into the limelight.”

“But how will you find a husband Katherine?” Katherine replied, mimicking her mother, “You’ll end up like poor Prudence Blaylock.”

Both girls cast a sympathetic glance at the unfortunate Miss Blaylock who was sitting in her usual distant corner, away from public attention and evidently wishing she could be at home. It was well known that she wished to simply have her dowry and live with a companion, but her mother could not bear the shame and always forced her poor daughter out to social events. This was now her eleventh season and she had sadly become a bit of a joke to the Ton.

“I’m afraid that’s what comes from being one of the richest heiresses in Britain, with a mother who won’t allow you to escape marriage,” Violet added.

“What are you two doing, sympathising with poor Prudence Blaylock?” a merry voice enquired. Both girls turned to see Timothy Andrews beaming at them. Freshly graduated from Cambridge with flyaway hair and an infectious enthusiasm, he seldom failed to make Violet laugh.

“Why aren’t you off charming the Miss Lowhings Tim?” she asked.

“I’ve been on the lookout for my old friend Bridgerton,” he replied, “He returned from his tour last week and promised to come tonight.”

“Oh, the Viscount,” Katherine said with evident pleasure, “I didn’t know he was coming tonight.”

“He just finished his tour?” Violet asked, “I do envy him.”

“Have you travelled much, Violet?”

She shook her head, “Only to France. My parents took us to Paris one summer to practise my spoken French when I was fourteen, but it has been many years since I left England.”

“I hope to take a tour in a few years,” Timothy added. “But for now, I thought you might fancy a turn, Vi.” She accepted his hand gladly and they enjoyed a bouncy gavotte. As with Mr Briggs, it was a dance of friendship and one she greatly enjoyed. Timothy was an excellent dancer and had become like a brother to her since she and Katherine had become friends. Once they had finished, he led her to a comfortable seat near her mother and went off in search of refreshments.  
Violet was content to sit down. She often enjoyed people watching at such events and considering whether the hopes of many a young woman would be fulfilled. She found her eyes following Miss Felicity Kendall, another darling of the Ton with her golden curls and big brown eyes. Miss Kendall was dancing elegantly around Sir Geoffrey Ramsay who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

It was only once her eyes drifted off in search of Timothy that she saw …

All her life, Violet had laughed at the notion of love at first sight in books and especially in plays. She had grossly offended Cordelia when they were younger by not falling head over heels in love with Romeo and Juliet’s relationship. But she had simply laughed and said that the relationship was not just implausible but utterly ridiculous.

Then she saw him.

The first thing that struck her was the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. He was talking to Timothy and they obviously knew each other well. He was also very tall. He was at least a half foot taller than his companion. Dark hair fell to his ears. His eyes weren’t dark but cool, maybe blue or green ..? He was handsome in a rugged way, but it was his smile that made it impossible for her to look away.

Then, he saw her.

Timothy had been gesturing to the other side of the room, obviously talking about bringing her some lemonade, when he looked over … and could not look away. He stared at her with the same focus, the same piercing intensity.

It was only after a long time that Violet realised she had been staring and looked down, hating the faint blush that she could feel creeping over her cheeks. It was a habit of her girlhood that she had still not been able to stop.

When she dared look up, they were gone. She felt disappointed but also slightly relieved.

It was short lived, however as Timothy was before her the next moment and the stranger was bowing politely to her. She was so overwhelmed that she missed the first few things that her friend said and forced herself into a curtsey. It was only latterly that she realised that this was the infamous travelling viscount they had been speaking of.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Viscount Bridgerton,” she murmured.

He took her hand and kissed it with easy gallantry, “And I you, Miss Clympton. Is this your first season?”

“No, my second,” she corrected. “I understand that you are lately arrived from your tour?”

“I am.”

“I was telling Timothy just a few moments ago how greatly I envy you, I would love to see Italy beyond anything.”

He smiled, “It is as stunning country.”

“What location was most memorable to you?”

He considered, “Probably Lake Garda or the Colosseum at Rome.”

She smiled, “Oh I have heard such things of Lake Garda’s beauty. Vorrei poter vedere quel bel punto di riferimento.” [I wish I could see that fair landmark]

The Viscount beamed at her, “Spero che un giorno lo farai.” [I hope that you will someday]. “You speak the language very well, Miss Clympton.”

She felt herself blushing, “I’ve always loved languages. I’m not sure whether I got so good at them to please my governess or because I wanted to beat my younger brother Frederick. We can be dreadfully competitive.”

Lord Bridgerton laughed, “Have you many siblings?”

“Three younger brothers – seventeen, fourteen and twelve. All competitive and endlessly reminding me that I am now an old maid at the ancient age of nineteen! What of you, my lord?”

“Just one. My younger brother Harold. He’s taking Cambridge by storm and apparently beating all the other colleges into submission on the river.”

“My brother rows for his college as well!”

“Which one?”

“Caius. And yours?”

“Trinity. Every man in my family has gone to Trinity.”

“As every man in mine has gone to Caius.”

They smiled at this familial similarity and it was only at this time that they remembered Timothy, who offered Violet her glass of lemonade.

“Oh, thank you Timothy. I would surmise you met Lord Bridgerton at Cambridge then?”

Her friend smiled. “Indeed, and he out translated me in every language, though I had him at the Sciences.”

Lord Bridgerton sighed heavily, “Before we relive every academic triumph may I have the pleasure of your company in the next dance, Miss Clympton?” Violet readily agreed.

The Viscount proved to be a most able dancer, leading her expertly through the waltz and maintaining the same intensity in his look. She didn’t know what it was – his gaze, his stature, the way he carried himself, but Violet knew that she would find it very hard to stay away from the Viscount. He too seemed unable to keep away from her and used any excuse to touch her hand or guide her in the dance.

When the music ended, she was glad to escape from his presence for a moment and seek the reprieve of the outdoor terrace for cool air upon flushed cheeks. She made herself sit down in full view of the doors, but in an open area so that she could enjoy a cool breeze. She did not have long to herself though as her mother approached looking very intrigued.

“Did I just see you dancing with Viscount Bridgerton?”

Violet rolled her eyes, “Yes, Mama, you did and before you ask, he is very pleasant company and that is all I wish to say on the matter.”

“That is all you wish to say on the matter?” Lady Clympton replied sarcastically. “So, I’m not to mention the intensity of the look that passed between you or the way that you ran away as soon as the dance was done to spare your blushes?”

“I did not run away!” Violet exclaimed, “I was simply ... warm from dancing.”

“Of course, my darling,” her mother agreed, “And he hasn’t asked you for another dance?”

“He hasn’t,” Violet replied triumphantly.

“Well, you didn’t really give him a chance after you fled from him.”

“I didn’t flee!”

“As I already said, of course you didn’t.”

Her mother allowed the silence to grow uncomfortable before her daughter burst out, “He is a very pleasant man. That was why I chose to dance with him, no other!”

“Who are you trying to convince Violet? Me or yourself?

Violet was about to storm away into the gardens when the Viscount’s approach stopped her. He approached swiftly, bearing two glasses of lemonade.

“Miss Clympton, may I be introduced to your Mother?”

“Of course, my lord,” Violet replied, swallowing her feelings. “Mama, may I present Viscount Bridgerton, he is but lately returned from his European tour.”

“Oh, where did you travel, my lord? My husband has always spoken most fondly of his own tour.”

There then followed a long conversation about various European capitals and places. Despite herself, Violet was fascinated and soon forgot her anger at hearing descriptions of many places that she had always longed to see.

“Is it true that the water of the Mediterranean is like glass? My father always said it was.”

The Viscount smiled, “As clear and as pure as crystal. I went sea bathing several times.”

“Only in the highlands of Scotland will you find such purity of water,” Lady Clympton added. “We often holiday at a small estate of my husband’s in the Highlands.”  
It then turned out that the Viscount also had a sizable estate near Fort William.

“It is a very small world indeed,” Lady Clympton remarked.

“Which reminds me, Miss Clympton, might I request a second dance after supper or is your card full?”

After assuring him that she had space, Violet passed him her card and carefully avoided meeting her mother’s eye. It was only after they had returned to the ball room that she became aware of the many eyes that were following herself and Lord Bridgerton.

Thankfully, supper was announced, and she was able to take refuge between her cousin and Katherine, both of whom were vastly amused by her desire to hide.

“Are you disliking the spotlight, Violet?” Cordelia murmured as she took a sip of her wine.

“There are many eyes upon you,” Katherine observed, “Maybe you and the Viscount should not have maintained such intense eye contact.”

“It is ridiculous that one cannot dance with a new partner without arising such speculation,” Violet muttered.

“That would be far more convincing if you were not pink at the moment,” Cordelia replied.

“Speaking of partners, who have you danced with tonight, cousin?” Violet asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

There followed a usual conversation about Cordelia’s preference for this lord or that duke and she happily sunk back into her anonymity. Katherine was then asked about her partner and Violet was just starting to fall back into her usual state of calm enjoyment when Miss Felicity Kendall approached their table with a wide smile.

“Miss Clympton, might I speak with you?” she asked.

Nonplussed, Violet nodded and rose. Miss Kendall tucked her arm through hers and let her towards one of the elaborate floral displays.

“We are all agog, my dear Violet, over your dance with the Viscount! Is it true that you only met him for the first time tonight?”

Longing to fall back into her old role as “Wallflower of the Ton”, Violet managed to find a smile and beamed back at Miss Kendall with the same level of falsity.

“Indeed, Miss Kendall, I have only met his lordship tonight. He is most agreeable and an excellent dancer. His company was highly diverting, I do assure you.”

Miss Kendall’s smile thinned slightly, but she pushed on nonetheless, “It amazes me that you did not feel scorched under the blazing looks he kept throwing your way.”

“I cannot imagine what you mean,” Violet replied with as believable a look of wide-eyed innocence as she could manage, “I was focussed upon my steps, a waltz can get so complicated do you not find?”

The blonde beauty tried a final attempt for some tidbit of gossip to share, “Was he not very eager to make your dear Mama’s acquaintance?”

“He was good enough to bring me a lemonade if that is what you mean, my mother just happened to join me on the terrace when he did. Oh, and I see her beckoning to me, if you will excuse me,” Violet answered with a small curtsey before hurrying off to join her mother.

Lady Clympton was vastly amused and made space for her daughter next to her. “Struggling with being the centre of attention, dearest?” she enquired.

Violet pulled a face behind her teacup, “I miss being invisible, Mama,” she muttered.

Her mother’s face softened for a moment, “Don’t worry Violet, soon there will be another scandal and a fresher connection to gossip about. The Ton, as we know, are a fickle lot.”

The rest of supper passed calmly enough for Violet and she enjoyed a relaxed pair of dances with Mr Briggs and Timothy, (though the latter did tease her for having “created a scandal”). In response, she merely teased him back and allowed herself to take part in their usual bantering rapport.

It was only once Lord Bridgerton came to claim her for the next dance that she felt herself colouring once more and considered sitting the dance out. When it came to it, however, she found that she could not resist his hand and followed him quietly to the dance.

The Viscount was quick to engage her in conversation and soon helped her to forget her self-consciousness as they enjoyed a lively jig. There was much circling and partner swapping, so they did not converse as freely as they had done in the waltz. However, Violet found herself relieved by the distance created as it allowed her to think and consider her conduct earlier that evening. She was starting to ponder whether she had been too forward, too flirtatious and preoccupied with Lord Bridgerton. Surely such fervour would be considered unmaidenly or unbecoming to one of her station?

She was so deep in her contemplations that she mixed the quizzical glances her partner was sending her and completed the last part of the dance distractedly. She was still preoccupied when he started to lead her back to her mother but then led her towards a windowed alcove instead. It was still visible to the room but offered them some privacy.

“Might I enquire what has caused such deep reflections, Miss Clympton?”

Violet felt herself colouring and struggled to find an answer, “I … was just pondering the … gossips on the Ton, my lord,” she replied eventually. “I do find the whole notion of gossip ridiculous.”

“You mean how a single look can be thought to proclaim an attachment?” he guessed. She could not find the words to reply and merely nodded. The Viscount looked uncomfortable and struggled to find words, it appeared to be an unusual thing for him. “I did not expect the scrutiny to be quite so …”

“Intense?” she offered.

He smiled, “I confess, I did not expect a ball room to have so much in common with a circus arena.”

“I also am not used to such inspection. I have thoroughly enjoyed being anonymous at such events for a while now. My Aunt refers to ladies such as myself as the “Wallflowers of the Ton”.”

Lord Bridgerton laughed, “The Wallflowers? Meaning those who remain at the edges …”

“And are happy to do so,” she finished for him. “Being the “diamond of the season” comes with a great deal of examination, my lord and I am not at all a fan of it. I am afraid that your title is to blame.”

“An affliction I am afraid that I cannot escape from!” he replied merrily. “But I did want to apologise if the intensity of my gaze disconcerted you.”

Violet found a smile, “As I remember it, I was staring at you first, my lord.” She then made to move away for fear of where this conversation would lead. Not, however, before he stayed her with a quick word,

“Might I be so bold as to call upon you tomorrow?”

Without turning she managed to whisper back, “I believe we are open to callers from eleven,” before returning to the light and merriment of the ball room.

0 0 0

Kairos - an Ancient Greek word meaning the right, critical, or opportune moment.


	2. Chapter Two

Kairos

Chapter Two

When she couldn’t sleep, Miss Violet Clympton read. It was a habit that she had developed in her younger years and could not remember what had started it. All she knew was that when she awoke at a stupidly early hour, her favourite indulgence was found in a good book.

This was the reason she gave to Lord Clympton when he entered the library at 5 o’clock in the morning to find his daughter by the recently lit fire, her gaze fixed upon a volume which was held precariously close to a steadily dying candle.

“Vi?” he exclaimed confusedly, “What are you doing awake? Why aren’t you reading in your room?”

The lord’s daughter spared her father a single glance before returning to her book. “I couldn’t sleep,” she replied, “Nelly was here laying the fire twenty minutes ago, she promised to bring me a pot of tea.”

“How long have you been here?” Her father tried again.

Violet didn’t look up, “An hour or two? I know where Crook keeps the spare candles and did not want to bother anyone. It’s a perfectly warm morning.” She looked up with twinkling hazel eyes, “It is April, Papa.”

“And why should Nelly have to do extra duties for you? She already has to lay a fire in every room of this house before 6.”

“I didn’t ask, she _offered_! Besides, this is not the first time she’s found me here in the early morning, you just weren’t awake to witness it.”

Lord Clympton sighed and admitted defeat. He seated himself beside the fire and regarded his firstborn with a sardonic gaze.

“So, why are you awake at such an hour? What’s affected your sleep?”

His questions received no response.

He tried again, “May I at least know what you are reading?” His daughter obligingly held up the spine of her book, “Romeo and Juliet? Isn’t it a bit early for Shakespearean tragedy?”

“I’m a young woman in my second season, Papa. Didn’t you know, my life _is_ a Shakespearean tragedy.”

Unable to help himself, Violet’s father laughed. “Oh yes, and which one would you compare your tragic life to, dearest?”

His daughter considered, “I believe there is something of Perdita about me, Papa.”

“The Winter’s Tale? So, you believe you are secretly the daughter of a king? And who is your Florizel, may I ask? Perhaps this Viscount Bridgerton your mother has told me so much about?”

Violet groaned. “Is there not a single member of the Ton who hasn’t already paired me off with Lord Bridgerton?”

Her father considered, “Well he is apparently a very fine young man and I have nothing against the match in principle …”

“Besides the fact that your daughter has only met him _once_?”

“Violet I’m only teasing.”

She sighed and slammed down her book, “I _know_ Papa, but I just find it ridiculous! Lord Bridgerton and I had two dances together and the whole room was acting as though we were engaged!”

“Did he ask to see you today?”

Her silence spoke volumes.

“Then why are you losing sleep over it? Surely your slumber should be unimpeded if it was just “two dances” as you so adamantly state.”

Violet stared at her father, he had used her own logic against her, and she hated it. She tried another tack, “How did you feel when you first saw Mama?”

Lord Clympton was taken aback for a second. He was used to verbally sparring with his daughter and knew her turn of phrase, but this abrupt question caught him off guard.

“Your mother?”

“How did you feel when you first saw her?” Violet pressed, “Did you have a ‘Romeo seeing Juliet’ moment, or was it more gradual?”

Her father considered the question for a moment before remembering that it was only 5.10 in the morning and privately cursed his daughter.

“Is it not a bit early for deep emotional discussions?”

“Papa.” There was something in her tone that waylaid the teasing remark Lord Clympton was about to make and made him really look at her.

Violet was by nature a calm and very intelligent girl. It took a lot to rattle her and she normally took surprises with an impressive level of what her mother called “unflappability”. However, she was not her usual self this morning. She kept fidgeting with her dressing gown and looked truly anxious about something. It seemed that all her protestations spoke of a troubled mind.

“Please,” she tried again. “How did you feel when you first saw Mama?”

He settled himself more comfortably upon the sofa and pondered the question. “It was the first ball of the season,” he reminisced. “Your mother was seated with a group of her friends and I was struck by how she wasn’t giggling.”

Violet smiled, “Mama was the serious one?”

“Oh, I was soon to discover her cutting wit, but I was struck by how serious she seemed at such a merry event. So, I asked her to dance.”

“What happened?”

“She demanded to know why I had chosen the solemn maiden from among a group of merry and I told her that her solemnity intrigued me. It was then that she told me of the death of a beloved family pet that very morning, the famous basset hound Wilber she’s spoken so long of.”

“Oh yes! The dog who was a puppy when she was a baby.”

“Indeed, so our first evening together was spent reminiscing over dearly departed pets.”

Violet laughed, “It wasn’t!”

Her father smiled, “I promise you it was. After that, another young man asked her to dance and I found myself unable to get her out of my head. It was not love at first sight, dearest, but I believe it was friendship. We did not fall for each other straight away, but we spent the better part of a month getting to know each other. Then she asked me one day whether we were simply friends, or did I think that I might propose before the end of the season and I told her that that sounded like an excellent idea and we were married six months later.”

“So, it started as friendship?” Violet surmised.

Lord Clympton nodded, “I suppose it did. Your mother and I were so well suited, but we also had a deeper connection than mere attraction, we had come to value and love each other over that month.” He put an affectionate arm around his daughter, “I suppose the best advise I can give is to take your time and simply enjoy being with any man you may one day consider accepting.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead as the door slid silently open and the scullery maid Nelly came bustling in with a full tray,

“Here you go, Miss Vi, I even found you some biscuits …” she began, “Oh your Lordship! I’m so sorry to carry on like that, I only brought a cup for Miss Violet …”

“Do not trouble yourself Nelly, I have a spare cup on my desk,” he replied. “And I must thank you for feeding my unhelpful offspring who will insist upon interrupting your duties.”

The scullery maid smiled and bobbed a curtsey, “It’s no trouble at all, my lord, I often meet Miss Violet here in the early morning.”

“Oh, do you?” Lord Clympton raised an eyebrow, “This is news to me.”

“Thank you, Nelly,” Violet added hurriedly, “This looks wonderful, I’m sure you have other duties to attend to.”

Once the girl had left, Violet’s father returned with his own cup and book and simply joined his daughter for half an hour’s reading before the tea was finished and the day had to start.

0 0 0

Lady Clympton, not such a fan of the early hours as her husband and daughter, had the satisfaction of entering Violet’s chamber that morning still half asleep and seeing her looking refreshed and pretty in a favourite muslin gown. Sarah was just studding her hair with small pink flowers (to match embroidery across the bodice) when Lady Clympton entered.

“Feeling better after your chat with Papa, dearest?”

Violet smiled at her mother, “Much, Mama. He told me to simply take my time and enjoy his company. It is advice that I intend to take.”

“I take it that we may expect the Viscount’s attendance this morning?”

“I believe so, he did ask if he might call. I expect he will be our only visitor.”

Her mother twinkled. “I am not so sure; one visitor often brings others.”

Violet was not convinced, “I hope not. Though I would not mind a visit from Timothy Andrews or Mr Briggs.”

In the end, both Clympton ladies were right. Eleven o’clock found them seated comfortably in the parlour and Violet halfway through a favourite concerto when Crook their butler announced ‘The Viscount Bridgerton and Mr Andrews’. Both ladies arose to greet their guests.

Timothy was the first to enter and strode in with his usual pleasant air. Violet had just risen from her curtsey when she was confronted by a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Lilies, gardenia, and freesia, among others that she struggled to name.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed by their fragrance and beauty. She looked up to see the obvious pleasure on the Viscount’s handsome face and found herself unable to frame a coherent sentence beyond a faint, “Thank you.” He was just as engaging as the night before and had _such_ warm blue eyes that she felt utterly overwhelmed.

“Thank you most kindly, my lord,” her mother interjected, “It is most thoughtful of you to also bring me a bouquet.”

The Viscount turned to bow over her mother’s hand. “My mother taught me that it is the right and proper thing to do, Lady Clympton,” he replied. “I hope that they will brighten your parlour. I asked the florist to assemble only flowers that are native to Italy.”

Once again, Violet found herself overcome by his thoughtfulness and simply smiled at him. He too seemed struck dumb for a moment and was saved from a blunder by Timothy enquiring after the boys and Lord Clympton.

“My husband has taken them to the park,” Lady Clympton replied. “It is such a fine morning, and the boys love nothing more than a hard canter on their ponies.”

“I hope Geoffrey will not pull-on poor Rollo’s mouth this morning,” Violet commented, returning to the relative safety of her piano stool, “He is such a dear little thing.”

“Did you learn on him, Miss Clympton?” the Viscount asked, taking a seat opposite her mother and Timothy.

Violet nodded. “He’s such a treasured creature. I hate to say it, but I fear Geoffrey will have outgrown him next year. We might have to sell him.”

“One’s first pony is a very special thing,” he agreed, “I learnt on a very stout little chap called Champion. It was a funny name for him, the only thing he was champion at was emptying his nose bag.” They all laughed.

“Thank you though for the beautiful flowers,” Violet stated, finding the courage to meet his gaze, “They are stunning, truly. Freesias are one of my favourites, I love their delicate fragrance.”

“You are most welcome, my mother is also very fond of them.” He glanced at her seat and pondered, “Were you playing before we arrived, Miss Clympton?”

“She was halfway through her latest concerto.”

“Would you please play for us? I would love to hear the music you enjoy.”

Violet blushed, “Oh, I play very ill …”

“Nonsense, Vi! Katherine is often telling me how she envies your abilities on the piano.”

“If I had half her talent on the harp, Timothy I would imagine myself a true musician.”

“What utter tosh! Come, Lady Clympton, you must support our endeavours. You and I both know how delightfully Violet plays. It is not unfair to deny my friend Bridgerton such a pleasure?”

With a little further prompting, Violet reluctantly agreed and seated herself, having denied all chance of her singing. With this addendum added, she become lost in the pleasure of the music. She played with real emotion, causing the listeners to be transported with her.

It was only once she had finished that she remembered her audience and blushed slightly under their scrutiny. They clapped loudly and the Viscount was warm in her praise, stating that he would bring her more music to play at their next meeting.

“I must hear you sing,” he added once they were seated on the sofa.

“I do not know …” she began, looking down.

But he would not allow this, “I do,” he stated, forcing her to maintain eye contact. She felt a blush creeping across her cheek as she nodded.

“Very well,” she agreed so quietly that only he heard. He enjoyed a small smile of self-congratulation before Timothy called him.

“We must be going Bridgerton,” he stated, rising, “We have that engagement at the gun smiths.”

The Viscount agreed, though it was evident to all that he rose with reluctance. “Miss Clympton,” he asked, “I wonder if I ask too much to invite you to take a drive with me tomorrow afternoon? Park is a sight not to be missed and would greatly love to show you it.”

Violet forced herself to stay calm as she responded, “I believe we do not have any plans for tomorrow afternoon, do we Mama?”

“Our afternoon is free, but we are engaged to the theatre with your Father and the Wetherings in the evening,” her mother replied, “Please be sure to have her back well in time for our evening engagement, my lord.” The Viscount promised that he would and bowed to both ladies before departing with his friend.

It was only once the door was closed that Lady Clympton turned to her daughter with a smile, “So? Does the Viscount improve upon closer acquaintance?”

Violet returned her smile and was pleased to find that she was not blushing, “He is a very kind and amusing gentleman,” she replied, “I do enjoy his company.”

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you when you were playing.”

“I do often catch him watching me,” she agreed. “Oh Mama, I don’t know what I’m feeling! My heart’s all a flutter.”

Lady Clympton’s responding smile was warm, “That is how it should be, my love. Just enjoy the experience and allow yourself to be honest about your feelings.”

Violet nodded. She had not seen the Viscount’s expression when he had seen her play, however, if it was what her mother had said, then it was obvious that she rendered him as speechless as he rendered her.

0 0 0

Despite all the heartfelt feelings of every young couple in London, the weather did not cooperate, and it heavily rained all morning. Violet stood by the window for most of it lamenting every umbrella that she saw and despising England’s mild climate.

“Why today of all days?” she wailed, throwing herself down upon a sofa and dislodging her brother’s book.

“Vi!” her younger brother Geoffrey lamented as he attempted to find his page once more. “I need to know what Ivanhoe will do next!”

“Oh, to doubt save the day as always happens in Sir Walter Scott’s work,” she replied, picking up her needlework with a poor grace.

“Poor dearest Vi, in agonies over her newfound love!” Seventeen-year-old Frederick exclaimed with a dramatic faint as though he were a lady upon the stage.

“Oh, be quiet Fred, no-one asked you,” she replied angrily. “Go and fence with someone who’ll beat you up in a gentlemanlike manner.”

Her brother smirked, “Well, I do believe that Papa wanted to make me a member at White’s finally, I may go and ask when we’re to leave.”

Lady Clympton regarded her daughter with a knowing look. “You know that you give him exactly what he wants by rising to his bait.”

“I _know_ , but he’s playing on my worries,” Violet admitted. “Mother, I don’t want to become another twittering Miss of the Ton. I was quite content as I was until Lord Bridgerton disrupted my entire happy pattern.”

“What happy pattern? Dancing with Timothy Andrews and Mr Briggs and judging all the younger girls with Katherine at every ball?”

Violet felt herself blushing under her mother’s scrutiny, “Well … yes …”

“Violet, I love you dearly, but is the Viscount not a welcome disruption? You don’t want to still be sitting in this parlour when Geoffrey is taken to join White’s by your father, do you?”

Her daughter considered, “I suppose not … I just do not know what to feel or how to act! I’ve always known who I am Mama and now …”

“It’s new and scary and exhilarating all at the same time?” her mother suggested.

“Yes,” Violet finished.

“Well enjoy it and just be yourself with Lord Bridgerton, he evidently likes you just as you are.”

Over luncheon, Violet was pleased to see a cessation of the ceaseless rain and was even hoping for a brighter spot to appear amongst the clouds. She was in a quandary for some time over whether she ought to change for a drive and eventually did under her mother’s instruction.

“I understand from Mr Andrews that the Viscount spends the majority of his time in the country. His family have a large property in Kent, Aubrey Hall is among the finest old homes in the country.”

“Lovelier than Wicklesham, Mama?” Violet stated with a twinkle, naming their home estate.

“No indeed, my dear. But I understand that is a fine old house with some of the finest woods in the country.”

Violet left her mother to her reminiscences and quickly changed. She had only just entered the parlour once more when a rapping was heard upon the door and the Viscount was announced.

“I was not sure whether you would maintain our engagement, given the weather,” Violet said by way of greeting. “Some families who reside primarily in town would find such weather abominable and could not conceive of going out after such a morning of rain.”

“My dear Miss Clympton, do you imagine me afraid of a little precipitation? I assure you that I am more than capable of driving through a park after a downpour. Of course, if you are happy to still proceed?”

She assured him that she was, and they had left the house the next moment. Lord Bridgerton had a pretty pair of matching greys that greatly took her fancy and before she knew it they were out of the square and already halfway to Richmond.

“Am I to take it that you are fond of the country then, Miss Clympton?” he asked, handling the horses with the care of one who seemed born in the saddle.

“I am very fond of it,” she agreed, “I like to primarily spend my time at our estate in Sussex. Wicklesham is a beautiful Estate, I feel very lucky to have grown up there. My brothers and I have spent endless hours running through Papa’s meadows. What of yourself, my lord? Mr Andrews told me that you are very fond of the country.”

“Been checking up on me, have you?” he inquired. Violet was about to apologise when she saw the twinkle in his blue eyes and felt herself laughing.

“I declare, you and Frederick are a pair! He has been teasing me mercilessly this morning as well! You’re lucky I have such experience with such things, my Lord Bridgerton, another young lady might be vastly offended!”

The Viscount grinned, unrepentant. “You forget that I have known Timothy and Katherine Andrews for a number of years, Miss Clympton. I was very well acquainted with your character through Katherine’s remembrances before I had even met you.”

Violet felt herself colouring, “I had no idea that I was so much spoken of in the Andrews home.”

“I believe Timothy found you refreshingly uninterested in comparison to the usual parade of simpering misses,” the Viscount replied. “He told me of your “safety dances” and I found the whole concept rather droll.”

She found herself smiling, “Well I shall have to make it my greatest endeavour to surprise you, my lord.”

He returned her smile with a warm grin of his own, “I look forward to it, Miss Clympton.”

The remainder of their drive was easy and so comfortable that Violet was astonished by how quickly they passed through the wrought-iron gates of the park. The Viscount was so relaxed and easy to talk to that she found herself falling into a familiar pattern, lightly teasing, and amusing him as they drove.

They entered through the Kingston Gate and followed the road in an anti-clockwise direction. The Viscount seemed familiar with the park, pointing out the Isabella Plantation and the head keeper’s cottage.

“What a thrill,” she murmured, “To live in Richmond Park. It would be like living in the country and having all the benefits of the city on your doorstep.”

“I’ve never been overly fond of town myself,” the Viscount remarked, “My mother seldom ventures up. Our town house is rarely opened because of it. Harold and I are living in bachelor rooms on Bruton Street.”

“Where is your family house in town?”

“A huge place on Grosvenor Square. It is all shrouded in dust sheets now I am afraid. It’s been rather neglected in the past few years.”

“Well, I hope it will live to see itself restored to a proper family home again one day,” she replied without thinking.

The pause that followed went on rather longer than was comfortable and she found herself forced to look at him. His expression was hard to read – curiosity was strongest, but a question also lingered in his eyes, leaving her feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

“I hope so to,” was his eventual reply.

The remainder of their drive was tranquil and enjoyable, though it lacked the teasing ease of the first half. Violet employed her time in seeking for a glimpse of the famous deer and was rewarded as they drove around the southern curve, spotting the herd in a distance copse of trees.

“They’re so beautiful,” she murmured, “I love deer. I do not think there is an animal with a shapelier form in existence. Their faces are so beautiful with their huge dark eyes.”

The Viscount listened to her raptures quietly, he seemed deep in thought. “There’s a large herd on my estate in Kent,” he said, “The stags are a magnificent sight with their huge antlers.”

Violet agreed. “I can understand why your mother prefers the country; one is so much more at ease in one’s own neighbourhood away from prying eyes.”

“Where one may go about one’s business without arousing gossip?” Lord Bridgerton added.

She nodded absently. “It’s certainly less exhausting.”

He drove the horses out of the park and headed for home. Both were far more thoughtful as they approached her father’s house.

It was only once they were within a mile that Violet roused herself, “Thank you for this outing, my lord, it has been a delight, truly. I wonder that I have not been to Richmond Park myself in many years. I believe that my brothers would enjoy an outing there.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied, “I wonder, would you and your family care to join myself and the Andrews? We were thinking of travelling to Kew Gardens next week.”

“What day?”

“Possibly Thursday? I shall write to confirm.”

Violet smiled, “I am sure we shall be delighted to. Though I will need to check our calendar.”

They were just around the corner from her home when a thought struck her, “Will you be attending the theatre tonight?”

The Viscount looked regretful, “I am afraid that I must travel to Aubrey Hall to see my mother for a few days. It was why I wished to take you for a drive today. I will be gone a week.”

“Oh, we will miss seeing you at the Pembleton’s Ball.”

“And I shall regret losing the opportunity to dance with you there, but I have business at my estate that cannot be delayed.”

She nodded, “Well we shall have Kew Gardens to look forward to.”

Within a minute they were pulling up outside her father’s home and Lord Bridgerton was offering his hand. He helped her carefully down from the carriage and slowed their walk as they approached her father’s door.

“I wonder Miss Clympton,” he began, “Might I …” She waited, wondering what on earth he was going to say. “Might I write to you when I am away?”

“Are you not only going for a week, my lord?” she queried.

He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “Yes, but I should like to write to you, if I may?”

She smiled, “I would like that very much.”

His answering smile was full of warmth and with his usual impeccable manners, he brought her to her father’s house and took his leave.

0 0 0


End file.
